Stop The Wedding!. Lori Wilde

      “Jackie? Hold on a second.” He covered the receiver again. “It’s my sister. Could we have this conversation later?”

      “You have a sister?”

      “Half sister.”

      “I didn’t know that.”

      “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” Thank goodness for that.

      “You never talk about her.”

      “I never talk about her to you.”

      “Touché,” she murmured, but she looked slightly wounded.

      He forced a smile past his injured-war-veteran grouchiness. “Right now I just want to talk to her, if you don’t mind.”

      “Sure.” She shrugged. “I only came by to tell you that I’m moving away.”

      Yay! No more nosy neighbor butting into his business, throwing noisy late-night parties, no more bringing over casseroles and lecturing him on proper recycling techniques. But even as he thought it, Boone felt something else entirely. A strange, soft sadness. It was the same kind of melancholy that used to come over him every Sunday afternoon when he was a kid, knowing that the weekend was over, and he had to go back to school the next day.

      Part of him almost told her to wait, but he managed to squelch the impulse. “See ya.”

      “See ya,” she echoed and hopped from the railing.

      He watched her lope across his lawn, her fanny swaying in those snug-fitting shorts. Mesmerized, his gaze locked helplessly on Tara’s delectable butt.

      “Boone? You still there?”

      “Yeah, yeah, I’m here.” He hitched in a deep breath and turned his full attention to Jackie. “Hey, sis. Long time no hear.”

      “I’ve been really busy,” she said, sounding oddly giddy. Normally his sister was intense and serious. Her father was the famed oceanographer Jack Birchard. Jackie had followed in his footsteps and she was working on her PhD.

      Boone realized it had been over four months since he’d spoken to her and he hadn’t told her about the third surgery. He hadn’t wanted her to worry. They hadn’t grown up together and they had really only gotten in touch with each other as teenagers when they’d bonded over the fact that their flighty mother had abandoned them both to their respective fathers. But Jackie was as resilient as Boone. They’d survived and thrived.

      That is, he’d thrived until the damn bomb blast.

      “What’s up?” he asked.

      “I’m getting married!” Jackie announced.

      “Married?” he echoed, stunned. “To who?”

      “You don’t know him. His name is Scott Everly and he’s a lieutenant in the Coast Guard.”

      “Jackie, seriously? A coastie?”

      “What’s wrong with a coastie?”

      Boone wasn’t going to get into the fact that he didn’t consider Coast Guard real military. “I can’t see you as a military wife. In fact, I can’t see you as a wife at all.”

      “What does that mean?” All the joy escaped from his sister’s voice.

      Don’t be a jerk, Toliver. Apologize. “Your career means so much to you.”

      “Yes, what’s that got to do with anything? Are you saying that I can’t have a meaningful career and be married at the same time?”

      “How are you going to do research if you’re following him around from post to post?”

      “He’s stationed in DC. Any promotions will just take him further up that chain. Besides, Scott is fully supportive of my career. He understands that there may be times when we’ll have to be separated.”

      “How long have you known him?” Boone asked, feeling protective. She was his baby sister. He hated the thought of her making the same marital mistake he’d made. No matter how you sliced it, divorce hurt. He’d do whatever he could to save her from that heartache.

      She didn’t answer him.

      “How long have you known him?” Boone repeated.

      “You’re being a jerk.”

      “You’re not answering the question.”

      “A little over a month,” she finally admitted.

      “What!”

      “Don’t go ballistic. I know what I’m doing. Scott is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He’s smart and kind and he loves the ocean as much as I do and—”

      “Are you insane? Didn’t you learn anything from my experience with Shaina—”

      “I’m not you, Boone,” she snapped. “And Scott isn’t Shaina. This is real love, not some hot, horny, drunken Vegas hook-up on the eve of your enlistment—”

      “Listen to yourself. Real love? You’ve only been dating the guy a month. He could be a serial killer for all you know.” Boone clenched a fist, quelled the urge to jump up and start pacing.

      “Six weeks. I’ve known him six weeks.”

      “Oh yeah, my mistake. Two weeks makes all the difference. Why didn’t you say so?”

      “I thought you’d be happy for me. I finally found someone who means as much to me as the ocean.”

      “You know exactly who you’re acting like, don’t you?”

      “Don’t say it,” Jackie growled.

      “Miranda.”

      “I am nothing like our mother.”

      He knew he’d struck a chord but for some unfathomable reason he just kept pushing. “Miranda married my dad after only knowing him for two months. How long did she date Jack before she plunged into that relationship? Six weeks, wasn’t it?”

      “I cannot believe you’re reacting this way.”

      Boone couldn’t believe it either. What was the matter with him? His knee hurt like a son-of-a-bitch, but that was no excuse. He could hear tears in her voice and that alarmed him. Jackie was a tough cookie. She didn’t cry easily.

      You, Toliver, are the world’s biggest loser.

      “I’m sorry.” He backed down. “You took me by surprise. Just tell me you’re going to have a nice, long engagement to make sure this guy is really the one.”

      “We’re getting married in Key West on Saturday on the Fourth of July.”

      “This Saturday? Are you out of your mind?”

      “If you can be happy for me, then you’re welcome to attend the wedding. It’s at four o’clock on the Sea Anemone at Wharf 16,” she said, referring to Jack Birchard’s research vessel. “If not, then stay in Montana and stew in your own self-pity.”

      “Jackie, I—”

      She hung up on him.

      Boone swore under his breath and immediately called her back. She didn’t pick up, letting the call go to voice mail. He tried three more times. She still did not answer.

      A raw ache gnawed at the pit of his stomach. Disgusted with himself, he slung the cell phone across the yard.

      Smart. Real smart. Now you gotta go get it.

      Guilt was a rock on his shoulders. He pushed up from the chair, winced against the bolt of pain that shot up his leg. He stared at the steps, swallowed hard. Going down them would take forever. He blew out his breath.

      And